Holocene
by Macky19
Summary: After a few humiliating and upsetting events Johnny snaps and makes the decision to run away. Problem is he doesn't tell anyone and leaves the gang worried sick. The one and only Dallas Winston goes after him, and their pasts and how they became friends comes to light. Co-written with Fun Filled Frost. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Guess who decided to start a story while they are writing another story. It's me. A big thanks to Fun Filled Frost (previously known as One Wing In The Fire), who helped me with this idea, and is going to help write this story. You should check their account out if you haven't already, they have some fantastic one-shots and stories, especially for anyone who loves Johnny and Dally.**

 **Anyways, please enjoy.**

 **I own nothing**

The dark storm clouds rolled across the previously blue Tulsa sky, casting a shadow across the entire city. Many would be disappointed by this, rain would mean mud and puddles that would soak through their shoes and socks, chilling them right to the bone. It meant no playing outside for the children, and no lounging outside after work for the adults.

But one particular young man was looking forward to the rain. He actually quite enjoyed the sound, especially when he was outside and could hear the wind whipping past his ears and the sound of the rain itself. He enjoyed watching the raindrops roll down the window, one after the other…

"Mr. Cade?"

His head snapped forward, breaking his gentle gaze from the window. Miss Gething, who had previously been circling the room as she taught the lesson, had stopped directly in front of his desk, her dark eyes locked on him.

She was a short, young woman. With curly blond ringlets like Dally's girl, Sylvia, had, and large round glasses that reminded him of an owl, Johnny thought that she looked more like a student than a teacher. She was a favorite of Two-Bit's, and not just for her teaching style.

"Can you answer my question?" She asked, tapping her fingernails slowly off of his desk. The sound sent shivers up his spine.

"Um, I don't know the answer." He said, and he thought bitterly to himself that he probably wouldn't have known the answer if he had been listening.

"You don't know what two plus five is?" She demanded, her high voice raised in a way that would have been funny if it weren't for the situation. Muffled snickers could be heard from his classmates, and his cheeks flamed as he sunk deeper into his seat.

"Seven." He murmured. The short math teacher nodded.

"Very good." She said, but her voice revealed that was not what she felt. Every head in the classroom was turned to look at him, and he had never had a deeper desire to be invisible.

He forced his eyes away from hers, as Miss Gething continued her slow pace around the classroom, asking the other students questions to solve the equation that she had written on the board. Johnny scowled, he would never understand algebra.

He glanced at the clock, and a bit of relief flooded through him. Five minutes.

"Mr. Cade, eyes off the clock." The teacher's voice rang out, she had a thing about her student's attention being on the lesson at all times. His scowl deepened, and when he was sure that he wasn't looking he shot her the middle finger.

Once again there was a few giggles from the other student, bringing him back to the teacher's attention. She shot him an angry look, and he forced himself to stop scowling so he would appear that he wasn't feeling any emotion.

Johnny didn't understand why the teachers tried so hard with him. He didn't try, and they couldn't make him try, they should have just let him fail. He glanced at the clock again, deciding that he couldn't make her anymore more angry than she already was. Four minutes until the final bell.

"This is dumb." A voice rang out. It belonged to a middle-class kid, Billy, who had his arms folded as he stared down the teacher. She folded her arms and scowled right back. Johnny had to admit that he admired her bit, for someone so short and innocent looking she was fiery.

"Language." She said simply. The student shrugged.

"How's this for language? This is fucking dumb." He said. Johnny took the opportunity to glance at the clock again. Three minutes.

"How is this dumb?" Miss Gething said, her voice dripping with fury and even a bit of sarcasm. "This is an essential part of the math curriculum, you need it for many jobs." He watched her name a dozen of jobs where they would need to solve an algebraic equation.

He glanced at the clock once again. Two minutes, damn, he was happy that this kid decided to start an argument.

Billy meanwhile had been defeated, he couldn't argue with employment being affected. The teacher smirked to herself in a silent defeat.

Then she turned to face the dark haired boy, and a feeling of dread formed in the bottom of his stomach. Oh no, she wouldn't, not with a minute of class left.

"Mr. Cade." She spat out his name like she was trying to cuss him out with it. "What do you do after you multiply the equation."

Damnit, he really didn't know this one. Her arms were folded again, as her foot tapped against the floor quickly like a nervous rabbit. He glanced at the clock. One minute.

Giggles had begun to rise from the other students again, and he wanted to hide his head in his arms again. He was shaking slightly, from the embarrassment or anger that he was feeling, he did not know.

"Awe, is the grease going to cry?" One of the Socs crooned lowly in a mocking way. Johnny kept his eyes locked forward, refusing to look at them.

Thankfully before he could stutter out an answer that he was sure was wrong the bell rang, a loud sharp ring, dismissing the students. Johnny jumped up just as eagerly the others and joined the others in exiting the classroom.

"Mr. Cade." Damnit.

As much as he didn't want to he froze in his tracks, one foot out of the door and one still in the dreaded classroom. But he didn't turn to look at her, even if some would call this particular action cowardly.

"If you don't start paying attention in class I'm going to have to call home." She said in that voice that all teachers used, the sympathetic disappointed one, to make him think they were trying to help. He nodded once, she didn't say anything after that. He took the silence as permission to leave.

He shoved his way through the hallway, holding on tightly to his math textbook. He didn't bother going to his locker, it's not like he needed his homework if he wasn't going to do it.

He walked right out of the main entrance, incredibly thankful for the few raindrops that began to lightly hit his face.

 **Well, not much to say.**

 **Please review**


	2. Chapter 2

**...Hey.**

 **So I started this story a while back, and it never really went anywhere, but ya know what? It's going somewhere now.**

 **Be warned this is not going to be a light and happy story. It's going to be dark, with the backstories of what I believe to be the most troubled characters of the outsiders. If that's not your thing, turn back now.**

 **So, uh, enjoy.**

He didn't like the rain as much after he was kicked out.

Well, perhaps 'kicked out' wasn't the right term to use. His father had simply come home drunk, and begun yelling at him. Johnny, after his humiliation at school, decided he couldn't handle a beating and left. The older man had thrown a glass at him while he was leaving, and it had shattered breaking through the sensitive skin on the back of his neck.

The greaser shook his head, glaring. Not because there was anyone to see the bitter look, but because the action made him feel a little bit better.

He gingerly touched the cut, trying to feel if there was any leftover glass in it. It didn't seem like it. He pulled his hand back, cringing as he saw the thick red liquid on his fingertips. Blood. His blood.

He shivered, more because of the cold than anything else. He shook his head again, he wouldn't have to be out here if his dad hadn't-

He stopped the thought before it could progress. His father worked long and hard to support his mother and him. He had every right to get rid of his problems anyway that he could. He should at least be thankful that he had parents. He was the last greaser in their gang that still had both of them, even if they were not the best.

Ponyboy, Sodapop, and Darry had lost their parents just weeks ago, while Steve's mother had left just weeks after her son was born. Two-Bit's father had abandoned his family, how long ago he did not know, and he planned to never ask. Dallas seemed to have the most tragic story, his mother was killed in a shooting and he had watched it with his own eyes.

Johnny shivered again, but this time it wasn't because of the cold.

Nobody has ever asked Dallas about his parents. They just knew that his father was shitty and his mom was dead. Nobody questioned anything. Until one day a certain greaser had approached him.

"Why would they kill your mother if they didn't know her?" Ponyboy had questioned. And honestly, the question hadn't surprised Johnny, coming from Ponyboy that is. He was a curious kid, and he was younger then as well it was bound to happen. Dally has given him a look so filled with hatred and fire that it could have burned down all of Tulsa.

"Because people are fucked up, kid!" He has yelled. Mrs. Curtis, who was alive at the time, had simply just watched. She didn't correct Pony, or scold Dallas for swearing. She had told Ponyboy that it was hard for Dally to even think about that, let alone talk about it. Johnny didn't like thinking about it, it scared him. To watch someone lose their life, it was terrifying to him. He couldn't imagine what Dallas felt. They could both tell Ponyboy felt guilty and it had never been mentioned again.

Damn, he missed Mrs. Curtis.

They had never been close, Johnny tended to reject adults, and more in particular parental figures. But she had a warm smile and would take care of him when he was in need, and that was all he needed.

He looked up, away from the ground. It was a bad habit of his, he always was hunched over, his eyes locked on his shoes. The sun was beginning to set, which would mean he would have to do something to keep warm. He supposed he could just go to the Curtis', but he always felt like such a burden. Lord knows Darry doesn't need another mouth to feed.

Dallas was probably at Buck's, and though he quite enjoyed being with Dal, getting into Buck's was difficult. He was short, and he looked quite a bit younger than he actually was. His efforts to enter the bar were often met with comments along the lines of "get lost kid" or "in your dreams, this isn't a place for someone like you."

Johnny always felt like an outcast when they told him things like that. He was a greaser, but he was so much younger than he didn't get treated like it. And he certainly wasn't a Soc or even a middle class.

So what was he? It seemed like sometimes he would never know. And maybe he never would.

The rain seemed to be stopping. A small smirk appeared on the young man's face. He would probably be able to build a fire, and paired with his jacket would be enough to get him through the night. He forced his legs to stand, and prepared to gather things for a fire.

"C'mon, C'mon!" Johnny Cafe murmured through gritted teeth. He was kneeling in front of some kindling he had gathered. No matter how long he held his lighter to the pile of sticks and dried leaves he had found it wouldn't was lots of smoke, but no flames and smoke wouldn't keep him more. If he didn't get this fire to light he would freeze to death.

He sighed, tucking his lighter back into his pocket. He placed his head between his knees sighing in frustration for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. He couldn't deal with this right now. The sun was setting quicker than before when it got later in the year it seemed that it went from bright and sunny to pitch black in an instant.

A drop of something wet and cold hit the back of his neck. He assumed that it had started to rain again. Great. He looked up, glaring like the nasty look could get Mother Nature to make it warm and sunny.

Instead of the raindrops, he expected to see there were white dots drifting down from the sky.

"Huh?" Johnny said to himself. It took him a few moments to realize what it was. They were white flurries falling from the sky. Snow. Winter had arrived.

"You gotta be kidding me!" He yelled to no one in particular, standing up and kicked his pile. It was only early November for goodness sakes! And it wasn't even that told outside. But Johnny had spent many nights out on the street and he knew that a small snowfall could make it freezing cold. He sighed again, today was not his day.

Looks like he was going to the Curtis' after all.

 **Sorry, it was a little short, I promise the next one will be longer. I'm kind of excited about this story, and I hope you guys are too.**

 **If you have any thoughts, comments, concern, questions, or requests just leave me a little review and let me know.**

 **-Macky**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter up!

Enjoy!

"Johnnycake!" A high pitched voice called, and Johnny found himself almost knocked off his feet.

"H-Hey Pony." He greeted. His friend tilted his head curiously.

"Where ya been?" His friend asked, throwing an arm around his shoulder. He was a whole two years to than him, and yet he was the perfect height to throw his arm around him. Just like how Dallas was only a year older than him, and a head and half taller. It annoyed Johnny, even if he didn't express his annoyance.

Steve and Two-Bit ran up behind them, both glaring at Pony.

"C'mon kid, you can't just run off like that." Two-Bit scolded the younger male. Steve scowled even deeper than the other man.

"Can you imagine what Darrel and Soda would do if they came back and you were gone?" He demanded. He reached over smacked him upside the head. The youngest Curtis boy growled, looking ready to fire back at him. Ponyboy had beginning to develop more of a temper lately, and often let it out on Steve.

"Hey," Johnny called before Pony could spit out any insult that he had in store for the greaser. He shrunk back a bit as all the eyes focused on him.

"What're the plans for tonight?" He asked, trying to get everyone to quit arguing. Two-Bit shrugged his shoulders, smiling in a casual way.

"I have a date." He declared. Steve and Pony groaned, and it made Johnny smile as they did it almost in sync.

"You do not." Steve protested, and it was Two-Bit'"You overheard a broad say that she was meeting her friends somewhere and hoping that if you go too you'll have a chance with 'er." He reminded the greaser.

"That counts." He insisted and they all shared a laugh. Johnny smiled gently up at Two-Bit who returned it with his signature smirk. That smirk quickly faded.

"Hey. Uh, kid?" He stuttered. Johnny curiously cocked a brow at him. The older man rubbed the back of his neck, and by instinct, Johnny touched his own. His body screamed in protest as the cut was aggravated. He winced, oh yeah, that.

"You wanna tell me what-" Two-Bit asked, but the dark-haired boy cut him off.

"I fell, I cut my neck. It's nothing." He brushed off. They all frowned, eyeing each other. Because they knew he didn't fall and that it wasn't nothing. But no one protested they simply dealt with it.

"Well," Steve began, breaking the awkward silence. "If it's nothing don't let Dal see it." Johnny winced inwardly, Dally finding out would not be pretty.

The music was loud and the drinks were cold. He had wonderful friends and a pretty girl on his arm. Dallas Winston smirked.

Yep, life was good.

"Dallas." Tim Shepherd greeted, stepping forward. He had a broad next to him, and he gave her a once over, before giving the greaser a nod.

"We're gonna go hunt some action, you coming?" His friend asked. Dallas contemplated for a moment.

"Yeah, sure why not?" He said more to himself than anyone else.

"I wanna come." His own broad piped up.

"You stay here, doll." Sylvia pouted, making him roll his eyes.

"Trust me. This ain't your kinda action, babe."

They were polar opposites. One tall and proud, the other small and shy. But whatever they had that was similar pulled them together. Perhaps it what they had both been through. It didn't matter.

Because there was a bond that they had that could never be broken. Not made by their current friendship, but the things they had experienced before.

And there was nothing in life that could be thrown their way to break that bond.

Yes, I brought Sylvia into this. I can't help myself, I love her.

Leave me a review?


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi. Hello. What's up?**

 **So this story has turned into selfish Macky time where I write what I want to read. So I hope we enjoy the same kind of things.**

 **Please review.**

Tim Shepherd was an interesting breed of man. He often reminded Dallas of a cat, sneaky and quiet. Not quiet like Johnny Cade, but quiet as in he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

The two of them, along with a companion of his whom Dally had never met. A ski mask was covering his face, and though he hated to admit it, it was stupid of him and Tim to have their faces uncovered.

"There it is," Tim whispered, nodding in the direction of the store. It was a small little shop on the corner, sold the typical candy bars, and cokes, and cigarettes. But rumor has it that the owner never ever left it locked, and Tim Shepherd had made it clear that he wanted to see if it was true.

They carefully approached the door, and Tim's friend pulled something out of his pocket, obviously with the intent to pick the lock. Dally rose a brow at him, putting out a hand to stop him.

"Wait a minute." He murmured softly to himself. He reached for the door handle and it was Tim's turn to raise a brow.

"Dal, you can't be serious." He said, but to everyone's surprise, the door opened right up. They all shared confused and skeptical looks, before running inside before anyone can see them.

The next half an hour was a blur, but Dallas knew that he had a damn good time. He left with his pockets full and adrenaline coursing through his veins. Looking back at it now, it was the last good night that he had for a long time.

"Sylvia." He greeted. She scowled.

"What the hell? You can't just up and go and leave me hanging around!" She yelled. A few people turned to look at them, but dirty looks immediately made them turn back around.

"Shut your trap!" He commanded, pulling a bottle of liquid from his jacket pocket and tossed it at her. She caught it easily, glancing at the label.

"Cola?" She asked mockingly, tapping the red and white label. He nodded, and despite her annoyance, she smirked and opened the bottle.

"You really are something, Winston."

"You bet I am." He agreed, with a cocky grin. He swallowed hard, knowing that she was going to be very angry with him.

"I think I'm gonna take off." He said as casually as he could.

"You're kidding me." She said, dangerously calm. He said nothing and her temper blew up. "You're fucking joking, right?!" She demanded. He reached forward, cupping her face. He gently pressed a kiss to the side of her face and watched as she melted right into his hands.

"If you let me leave nicely I'll come see you tomorrow." He promised, mumbling gently against her cheek. She hummed lowly, and Dallas took it as a sign that it would be safe to leave. She would blow up again, but by then it would be someone else's problem.

There was nothing better than sitting at home with the rain tapping lightly against the window.

Well, in Johnny Cade's opinion there was nothing better.

It had been about an hour since he had arrived, Two-Bit and Steve were arguing in the corner, but were being fairly quiet. Ponyboy laid in the middle of the room, on his stomach, drawing in his sketchbook. Johnny glanced at the picture and found that it was just a bunch of lines and shapes. He frowned.

He didn't get art.

He jumped in slight surprise as a loud door slam mixed with the soothing sound of rain. It took him a moment to relax and glanced at the clock. It was 5:30, the time Darry usually got home. That was it, it must be Darry.

But a simple hello from a certain New York-accented voice proved him wrong.

For a moment Johnny had forgotten about the gash on the back of his neck. It didn't hurt anymore and it had stopped bleeding. But as soon as Dallas entered the room he flipped up the collar of his jean jacket. The older greaser sat down in the chair that Johnny's back was facing. The blond greaser glanced at Steve and Two-Bit, who were still arguing about who knows what.

Dallas rolled his blue eyes dramatically, leaning back in his chair. Johnny looked at for a moment, and Dally gave him a firm, confident nod. The younger boy returned it. For a moment he believed that he would never find out about the big, ugly gash that was hidden beneath his collar.

"What the hell!?" Dally's loud voice demanded. At first, he thought he had been referring to Two-Bit and Steve, or perhaps Pony's odd looking drawing. But then there was the uncomfortable sensation of his collar being pulled off the back of his neck, and a warm liquid running down his spine. It took him a moment to realize it was blood.

"What the hell?" Dally repeated, and the four remaining greasers bowed their heads, thick silence hung in the air.

"Uh, I fell." Johnny tried, it sounded like a question. Dallas raised a brow at him, and Johnny's head returned to the previous bowed position.

Johnny was sure that if Dally pulled on his arm any harder it would come out of its socket.

He found himself being dragged through the Curtis household, before being shoved into the bathroom. The comfort of his jean jacket was removed completely, and Johnny wished that his shirt had long sleeves so every bruise and bump and scar wasn't on display for Dal to see.

Dallas was behind him again, dabbing at the wound with a balled-up tissue. He could hear a bottle being opened and he braced himself for what he knew was coming. The wound stung horribly and the familiar scent of peroxide filled the small bathroom. Dallas apologized lowly as the cut went numb.

"You got anything else?" He asked, his voice steady. Johnny simply shook his head, because he didn't think he would be able to keep his voice as steady as the older greaser's.

"That could have gotten infected. Or you could have bled to death." Dallas said in a way that almost seemed hostile.

"I ain't gonna bleed to death." Johnny finally said. Dallas rolled his eyes.

"Not yet you ain't." He murmured under his breath. Johnny looked at the floor once again. He had a strong feeling he wasn't supposed to hear that.

G **ood? Bad? Terrible? Let me know.**

 **I'll talk to y'all soon- Macky**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, how's it going?**

 **I wanted to thank everyone for the overwhelmingly positive response to this story. Y'all are awesome.**

 **A second announcement, I need everyone to keep an open mind during this chapter. I know this isn't usually my style but this chapter is critical for the story to move on as planned.**

 **On that note, read away and please enjoy.**

How does the weekend go by so fast, and yet the rest of the week goes so damn slow?

A certain dark-haired greaser thought as he sat in his first-period history class. The class hadn't even started and he was already done. The teacher and yet to show up, which meant his fellow classmates could be as loud and rowdy as they want.

He could feel little bits of paper and such being thrown at the back of his neck by a group of socs. He turned around once in a while, to which they would smile at him in a cold and dark sort of way. He didn't know why he continued to look at them, it only showed that it bothered him, but he couldn't help himself.

The door opened and the teacher, entered the room. Relief flooded through, him and he felt himself sit up a bit taller. He expected the history teacher, to pull out a piece of chalk from his desk drawer and begin teaching the class, just as he did every day.

Instead his teacher stepped to the right, and to everyone's surprise, there was somebody behind him, peering at the class with a shy but curious look. She had the longest hair that Johnny had ever seen, it fell a little bit past her waist. She had a pale face, framed by her dark brown hair like a curtain on a window.

Her brown eyes were soft and intelligent looking. Her lips were pressed together in a worried way. Johnny couldn't help but gape at her for a moment. Of course, there were some good looking girls that he went to school with, but there was something unique to her. He carefully coaxed his face into a cold uncaring look.

The teacher wordlessly pointed to an empty desk, and she obediently sat down. Said desk just happened to be next to Johnny's. Mr. Pouncy began the lesson, and the greaser tried his best to pay attention to the lesson, but he could feel a pair of eyes locked on him.

"…What?" He demanded, and the girl glanced at the floor.

"Nothing." She said loudly. There was something about her voice, it had a sort of twang to it, and it seemed sort of familiar to him. He tried to think of actors and actresses who may have similar voices to her before very slowly he realized. Her voice was close to Dally's.

"You're from New York!" He blurted out. The teacher turned around and gave him a nasty look. Johnny cringed and bowed his head, going silent once again.

"How'd you know?" She asked, sounding a bit impressed. He shrugged casually.

"I got a buddy from there. Your voices sound the same." He explained, and she smiled happily at him. She stuck out her hand, he stared at it for a moment. Though he wanted to be friendly he was still skeptical of strangers. Slowly and carefully he shook her hand. She either didn't notice his hesitation or chose to ignore it.

"I'm Holly White." She said, offering him a bright, happy smile. He did his best to return it, though he could feel that his own grin was shy and crooked.

"Johnny Cade." He said quietly. It was then when he got a good look at her. Her clothes were clearly expensive, and she was well groomed and elegant. If she wasn't already a Soc she was sure to become one.

He pulled his hand away twice as fast. She blinked once at him, before turning her attention back to the board. He rolled his eyes, he couldn't deal with this.

After a slow agonizing day of school, it was finally time to leave.

Johnny was halfway across the courtyard when he heard light and quick steps behind him, and he whipped around. No surprise, it was Holly. He gave her a nod, not like the friendly, loyal one he gave usually gave to Dal, but a briefer and less friendly one. She apparently didn't get the message.

"We should be friends." She announced happily. He gave her a cold look.

"We should go home." He responded, shoving her out of the way. She huffed, but apparently, she was stubborn because she continued to follow him.

"Great idea. I'll come study with you, at your house." She informed him, jogging slightly to keep up with his quick pace. He froze on the spot. No way she was coming over to his house.

He whipped around, ready to tell her off. But it wasn't her that made him freeze. It was the smiling face of Two-Bit Matthews, watching the couple with a pair of prying eyes.

He let a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shaking his head to himself, he murmured,

"Here we go…"

"Johnny's got a girlfriend! Johnny's got a girlfriend!" Two-Bit chanted, clapping his hands like an excited child. Darry who was sitting in the chair near the front entrance, rose a grow in only mild interest.

"Oh?" He asked in a slow, monotone voice. For a second Johnny believed that he would be able to silently slip into the corner before he got too much attention. He was good at that.

"Girlfriend?" A very curious, and a familiar voice asked, as the youngest Curtis brother as he shuffled into the room. His green eyes were wide, and an amused smirk was on his face. Two-Bit threw an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Yes, our Johnnycake picked up a broad," Two-Bit said in a sing-song voice. "Blond hair, beautiful, with a big-"

"Ey!" Darry's loud voice interrupted the inappropriate comment. He gave the younger greaser a warning look. Two-Bit just smiled back.

"Heart." He finished. "I was going to say, heart." He smiled goofily.

"She ain't a blond," Johnny informed him. "And she ain't my broad either." He finished folding his arms across his chest. Two-Bit smirked.

"Sure kid, whatever ya say!"

 **Cringey? Yes. I got second-hand embarrassment from writing this. Though it was kind of fun to do.**

 **Please review, you wonderful people,-Macky**


	6. Chapter 6

terribly sorry for not posting in a while. I've had a hectic couple of weeks. Thank you to whoever reviewed, favorited and followed. Always appreciated.

I must say I was surprised by the reaction to Holly. Female OC's tend to have a bad rap in this fandom, but seeing a little love for her made me feel good. Thank you for that. Though, I am trying to keep them as in character as I can.

Anyways, enjoy.

The following morning Johnny expected Holly to be cold as ice towards him. He would have been lying if he was saying that it wasn't his goal to get her angry when he was mean to her the previous day. But when he got to school her eyes were bright and she smiled at him confidently as soon as he walked into the room.

"Hey." He mumbled uncertainly, as he felt his eyes widen in uncertainty. She smiled at him again, and he did his best to return it, though the shy little grin could have never matched the bright happy smile.

"Sit." She practically sang. And even though he didn't particularly want to he did anyway. He didn't have much to lose.

"Can I ask you a question?" She whispered to him. He felt intrigued, and he leaned forward, and the two of them locked eyes. There was a couple moment of the two them looking at each other. The bell rang, and they were so focused that the noise scared them. Johnny was the first to look away, his cheeks blushing a deep scarlet.

"What's a Soc?" Holly asked, with all the innocence of a child. He noted that she pronounced the word as "sock" but didn't think it was worth correcting. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"You." He said, keeping his voice steady. She cocked her head to the side.

"Me?" She demanded, and there was no doubt that there was anger in her voice. He would admit, she was brave.

"A Soc is someone who lives on your side of town. The rich kid. Let's just put it this way, not a greaser." Johnny listed off, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. Her curious facial expression never changed.

"Greaser." She whispered it like it was a swear word. "Like Two-Bit?" She whispered. He couldn't hide his surprise this time.

"You know Two-Bit?" He demanded, and he was sure that he wasn't going to like the answer. She nodded quickly.

"We talked this morning. He told me that you wanted to be friends." Holly explained slowly, Johnny was right, he didn't like it, not at all. Johnny sunk into his chair, but this time not in a tuff way. He massaged his forehead in frustration, murmuring profanities under his breath.

"Do you not want to be friends?" She asked slowly. There was a bit of a hurt undertone, and the greaser stared at her face, trying to see if she was bluffing.

"Uh, we can talk," Johnny said, jamming his fists into his pockets. Holly perked up instantly, clapping her hands in almost a surprising way.

"Can I come over to your house?" She asked. Johnny silently stuttered for a moment, trying to form a sentence. There was no way in hell she was completely over to his house. "Not now, but I mean eventually." She corrected herself, noting his unease.

He considered bringing her to the Curtis' but pictured in his head introducing bright and happy Holly to Dallas Winston. Two-Bit was nice at the very least, but only because he thought she liked Johnny. But none the less, he was friendly. Dally would not be nice, not even in the slightest.

Mr. Pouncy entered the room then, stopping Johnny from answering the somewhat awkward question. The dark greaser pulled his face into a scowl, an uncaring and tuff look. The truth was he didn't hate history, he didn't even mind it. But there was nothing less tuff than liking school.

"So we're not going?" Holly demanded in a loud sort of whisper. Loud enough for the teacher to hear.

"Miss White." He snapped. She smiled in a way that would have made an angel jealous. It seemed to make the teacher even more furious.

"I don't know what rules you had at your old school, but here we don't talk after the bell has rung." He lectured. She gave another smile, tossing a strand of hair over her shoulder.

"Yes, sir!" She barked like a drill sergeant taking an order from a superior officer. A few giggles rippled from the back rows, but instead of becoming embarrassed like he would have it seemed to increase her confidence. She seemed to enjoy it.

Johnny can't help but be a little impressed.

Twenty-eight percent. He didn't even pass, he'd never seen so much red writing on a page. Even looking at the corrections he can't tell where he went wrong.

He sighed, putting his head down on the desk. This was hopeless. He glanced outside and notes the dark storm clouds. Though he knows there won't be any rain. It's snow season, the hardest time of the year for someone not welcome in their own home.

He angrily shoved the now crumpled up test into his binder, desperately wishing that he could smoke a cigarette. He wonders if Holly's ever smoked, maybe he should offer her one.

He almost slaps himself, he knows that if he were even sort of friends with a Soc that all hell would break loose. It would be a disaster.

He imagines bringing Holly to the Curtis'. "A Soc?" Dally would question, his voice full of venom. He could see Soda and Darry protectively shoving Pony behind them as Steve would give him a betrayed look. And Two-Bit would…

A hand slams down on his desk, and he jumps. He's always been jumpy. He closes his eyes and slowly opens them. His teacher is in front of him, glaring directly at him. He glares back, baring his teeth.

"You need to get your grades up." She commands, and he can't help but feel a little intimidated. There's no doubt she's angry. As she turns on her heels he can't help but admit he's a little impressed with her too.

Oh man, you have no idea how incredibly tired I am.

I PROMISE that I will have another chapter out this week. Please just be patient.

Anyways, please review, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Until next time- Macky


	7. Chapter 7

J **ust a warning this may not be the best chapter. I wrote this with the intent of showing a pattern of how Johnny pushes Dal away. I don't know how I feel with the way this turned out. I might rewrite it, but I don't know yet.**

 **Also, I made a Tumblr blog! I'm for sure gonna post some outsiders shit and art on there so if that's what you're into I'd appreciate if you would check it out**

 **:) My username is Macky1900.**

Enjoy if you can

Where'd you even get all of these bottles of cola?" Soda questioned, not even bothering to look at Dallas. He had come home from work to find the fridge stocked full of it. There were packs of cigarettes on the counter, enough to last them a couple of months.

"Don't worry about it," Dally answered, a devious smile on the older greasers face. Sofa rolled his eyes but a small grin was on his lips as well.

The creak of the front door echoed throughout the kitchen. Darry had said time and time again that he was going to put some oil on the hinges to quiet the noise but never seemed to get around to it. The door was closed with a slam before it opened once again and was this time shut gently and quietly.

Johnny entered the kitchen, followed closely by Pony. Their facial expressions are the complete opposite, the older raven-haired boy wore a sad almost disappointed look, though his face seemed to always be stuck in a permanent frown. Ponyboy's face was bright, full of intelligence like he had been deeply inspired.

"I'm going for a run." Pony practically sang. Ever since he had started his freshman year he had been intrigued by the track team. He was sure to make it too, he had long legs and was a fast runner. The track team would benefit from him.

Besides Pony didn't like being home when Darry arrived from work. The oldest Curtis brother was always tired and easy to irritate. Nobody bothered to mention it, but it seemed the two hadn't seemed to get along as well after their parent's death. Darry would often come home and snap at Ponyboy, the teen wasn't the most sensitive person in the world but it was obvious that it bothered him more than words could say.

It worried Johnny, that on top of all the problems the Curtis brothers had since their parents died that one of them was that Darry and Pony couldn't get along. He didn't want that family to fall apart more than it already had. He cared about the Curtis' more than he would ever admit. Especially Pony, that kid didn't deserve that.

And Johnny's worrying worried Dallas. It made the hood show that worry through anger and frustration in a way that would make your head spin. It was all so confusing to Johnny, so he did his best not to upset his friend.

Johnny mumbled a quiet 'okay', before throwing his backpack to the floor. Sodapop's smile had faded, and he glanced at Dallas momentarily, the older greaser chewed his bottom lip, deep in thought.

Johnny was looking out the window now, and Dallas slowly stood up to join him. The dark greaser did nothing to acknowledge Dally and simply sighed closing his eyes. The blond followed his usual routine that Johnny had established. Throw a friendly arm around his shoulder, don't speak, and most definitely don't ask what's wrong.

Johnny was quiet, most would just guess that he was just shy. But he hated being a bother, therefore he never ever complained. There was no point in asking what was wrong when he was down because you would never get an answer. Just a shrug and a generic excuse.

He shot a cold, uncaring look as Dally threw an arm around his shoulders.

The dark teen sighed loudly, and Dallas glanced at him.

"Tough day?" Sodapop asked, and Dallas flared at him, a silent warning to shut his mouth. It was enough, that look was enough to get anyone to stop talking. The blond greaser turned his attention back to Johnny.

The black-haired greaser had shrugged, his large eyes locked on the tree that was outside the window. Dallas lit himself a cigarette and then lit one for Johnny. They smoked in silence, and eventually, Dallas let his arm drop to his side. Johnny cleared his throat.

"I'm gonna go to my parent's house," Johnny whispered, and if the phrase had been any quieter nobody would have heard it. Dallas turned to face him, gripping his shoulders.

"You ain't going anywhere near that house." He exclaimed, but Johnny looked at the ground. "You hear me? You ain't going anywhere close." He all but shouted. Johnny nodded, his eyes still locked on the ground. But he didn't need to listen, it was just another one of their patterns. Johnny would say he would go home, and Dally would plead and beg and add a couple of death threats towards his parents while he was at it.

"Don't worry," Johnny reassured weakly. Dallas stared him down for a good long minute, and slowly but surely released his shoulders. "Don't worry," Dallas repeated a bit mockingly. Johnny ignored him, nodding.

Avoiding the older greaser's piercing gaze he turned slowly, Dallas still glaring at his back. He looked at Sodapop, silently begging for the older greaser to say something, anything. The silence hung so thickly in the air that you could cut it with a knife. Soda cleared his throat but said nothing.

Nearly silently Johnny crept out of the room, he didn't turn back to look but he was sure that Dally's eyes were still locked on the back of his head. He was sure that if he stayed in that room for much longer the older greaser's eyes would drill a hole straight through his head.

He stood on the Curtis' front porch, watching Pony run laps. The younger greaser was picking up his speed, and in the cold air, the youngest greaser's breath was visible. Johnny did his best to match his breathing.

He imagined turning around and going back into the house. Spending the night with the Curtis' and talking to Dallas and maybe even letting him help a little. Waking up and enjoying breakfast with the Curtis brothers, which would almost make up for his humiliating day in school.

But sadly that was all in his imagination.

He glanced at the front door and silently begged. He begged for forgiveness.

"Tulsa?" Dallas asked mockingly, crossing his arms. For a fourteen-year-old he sure looked intimidating. His father glared back at him, daring to say anything more.

"Well, I'm not able to support us here anymore. And you're a well-known criminal." He listed off, scolding him in the process. Dallas' face went from bored and unimpressed to prideful. "Damn, a criminal." The young man said with a toothy grin, it was obvious that even at a young age he was proud of it.

A hard blow to the jaw caused to grin to fade, and he was back to glaring.

"Language." His father said coldly. Dallas frowned but didn't say anything. He shook his head silently to himself, this couldn't be good.

 **Please review, constructive criticism is always appreciated.**

 **-Macky**


	8. Chapter 8

A slightly shorter chapter. Might need to slow down a bit after this, work on my other fic a bit. I hope you enjoy.

His house looked the same as it always did, the same cracked windows, the same white paint peeling off the side, the same uncertainty if they have running water or if the lights work because lord knows his dad doesn't bother to pay the bills on time. He steps into the porch, takes a deep breath, and pushes the door open.

The pungent scent of vodka and tobacco wafts from the air, and he does his best not to gag. He cringed at the old floorboards creaked, but no one seems alerted by his presence. He believes that he may be alone. He tiptoes through the house, the kitchen is empty as is the living room. He relaxes a bit but doesn't let his guard down, it's not often they leave, especially his mom.

He walks gingerly, being sure to stay light on his feet, dodging on the floorboards that he knows will make noise if he accidentally steps on them. He made it to his room and began to let out a sigh of relief, but it was cut short. His mother was sitting on his floor with her legs crossed and fist clenched. His school bag was open, and his school work scattered all over the floor.

His math test, the one he had failed a few days ago was on her lap. There was no doubt she was angry, her eyes were dark and empty. He couldn't stop looking at her, couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Mom…" He murmured, his voice shaking. But there was no getting around it.

"Get out." She whispered. Her face was blank, her eyes locked on the ground. Her expression morphed into a furious one, baring her teeth, her eyes wide. "Get out!" She yelled. He turned and walked out, numbly walking past the route he had taken, past the kitchen and the living room. He didn't bother slamming the door as he left, it would just be something for her to bother him about when he eventually came back.

He wasn't entirely sure how he had ended up pacing around near the school. Perhaps it seemed like a safe place at the moment, far enough from the west side where the socs lived, and at the same time de enough from the east side. He wasn't scared of Greasers in the same way, but Dallas wouldn't be happy if he found out where Johnny had gone and word got around quickly, especially if it regarded an infamous greaser like Dally Winston.

He walked around slowly in circles, biting his bottom lip. It was a bad habit that he had never grown out of, it usually made his bottom lip dried and bloody. He was so deep in thought that he almost cried out when a figure was suddenly in front of him.

He thought for sure it was a teacher or even the principal, but as he squinted to see better he found that he was very wrong.

"Holly?!" He asked, his voice higher than usual due to his surprise. "Why are you here?" He asked once he had calmed down a bit, letting his eyes slide closed.

"I had cheerleading tryouts, I made the team by the way." She said proudly, flipping a piece of her hair over her shoulder. She looked tired and a bit worn out, but from the looks of her wide eyes and posture, she was still prideful and bubbly. He scoffed a little bit at this, for the girl who was determined to not be a Soc she sure wasn't shying away from their typical activities.

"Why are you here?" She asked her hands on her hips. He looked at the ground, letting his bangs fall into his eyes. "I took a wrong turn getting to a friend's house, and besides I like it here." He mumbled. Her facial expression never changed.

"Hm. Well, I'm not supposed to be home for another couple of hours, bring me with you." She said. He gapped at her, there was no way that was happening. "No, no way." He said scowling, shaking his head. Holly shook her head back, making a "tsk tsk" sound under her breath.

"What?" He asked, folding his arms and giving her the dirtiest look he could muster. She kept her arms locked by her sides, her eyes observing him up and down.

"You made a promise." She crooned in a way that could be taken for mean. "I didn't take you for a guy that would break a promise. He could feel his cheeks flare scarlet.

"I'm not." He said coldly. She clapped her hands excitedly.

"Alright, where are we going, Johnnycake." He scowled, there were quite a few people who called him by that nickname, but it almost sounded wrong coming from her. He rolled his eyes, no doubt she had heard it from Two-Bit.

"Alright, follow me." He said glumly, motioning for her to follow.

They were on the east side after he had passed Buck's when he lost it. The houses had become smaller and clearly less extravagant. The presence of other greasers with leather jackets and switchblades made him uneasy.

He stopped right there on the sidewalk.

"I can't do this." He said, massaging his temple to get rid of a headache that was forming.

"Huh?" She mumbled, stopping beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. He shook it off. "I can't do this, you can't come on our side." He informed her, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

"Don't follow me." He said, walking away, leaving the usually cheerful girl heartbroken behind him.

Please review-Macky


	9. Chapter 9

**Uh, hi.**

 **I'm terribly sorry for the delay on this story. I had a horrible case of writer's block, as well as visiting the UK for a couple of weeks. Time really flew by.**

 **Anyways. Please review.**

He felt like he wasn't even himself anymore like he was watching himself from up above. Maybe he was already dead and was living life as a ghost. He shook off the idea, scolding himself. He just needed to get a grip, which shouldn't have been hard, it's not like he actually cared about Holly.

But deep down inside he knew he was lying to himself.

He switched from his slow and miserable trot to a quicker pace. And then once the faster walk didn't contain his energy anymore he started to run. Colors of the world seemed to fade to grey, and his vision blurred. Johnny wasn't a very good runner, his limbs ached and he breathed heavily, but he couldn't bring himself to stop or even slow down.

He followed the familiar roads of the east side until he made it to what felt like the safest place in the world. The Curtis house was busy like it always was, Steve and Soda goofing off with each other. Darry busy making supper and Two-Bit planted in front of the TV. And Dallas, well we weren't sure where he was but that didn't matter.

Everyone was to distract to notice him burst in through the front door. He went straight to Pony and Soda's room, slamming the door behind him. His best friend sat on the floor with his legs crossed, his eyes locked on the math textbook in his lap.

"Hi, Johnny." He called. He didn't seem to notice his friend's tired state until he didn't answer. Johnny stuttered for a moment before completely gave up on answering.

Ponyboy slowly looked up at the dark-haired boy, eyes darting from the mix of sweat and grease from his hair to the obvious anger in his eyes. He stayed silent and for a few moments, the only thing that Johnny could hear was the sound of his own labored breathing.

"Are you alright?" Pony asked slowly. And even though Johnny didn't know himself whether or not he was okay, he proceeded to nod. Pony moved over a bit, his back now up against the bed. Johnny sat across from him, taking a quick glance at the younger boy's math homework. The margins were full of doodles and little ideas were scribbled across the top.

Pony sat patiently, his hands folded neatly in his lap. It almost made Johnny laugh, he looked so much like his Mrs. Curtis like that. He almost told Pony that, but then shut his mouth as he thought better of it. Instead, he tried his best to return the small smile that his friend offered.

Pony was still young, barely older than a child. And he wasn't the best at giving advice, hell, none of them were great at it. But one quality that he held that none of the other boys had was he could listen. He would listen to Soda ramble about his job, and Dallas about Sylvia, and Two-Bit about whatever blond he was seeing. But most of all he listened when Johnny would have bouts of bravery and would talk about his folks.

"What happened?" Pony asked, looking over to the side, pretending not to be interested. Johnny sighed deeply. "It's just… everything." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders. Ponyboy cocked his head to the side. "Everything?" He repeated curiously.

"I guess I'm mad at everything." He clarified, silently hoping that Pony wouldn't pry further into the statement. He didn't want to talk about his mom kicking him out or his failed math test. He especially didn't want to tell him about Holly, and more importantly, the feelings that he had for her.

Instead of further questions the statement Ponyboy looked up at him with large eyes. "You ain't mad at me, are you?" He asked almost shyly. Johnny sat for a moment, gaping at him.

"Of course not, Pone. You're the only person I ain't mad at." He said quietly, giving his own smile. This time it was genuine. Pony returned it.

"I have to finish my homework. But you should stay for dinner." Pony offered, and Johnny stood up and shrugged. He was about to give a lame excuse, he wasn't hungry, he already ate. The truth was Johnny was starving and he wasn't sure when the last time he ate was, but it certainly wasn't during that day. But Johnny hated to be a burden.

Pony gave him a hopeful look, and Johnny instantly felt guilt, reminding himself that he had already accidentally upset the younger greaser. "I'll think about it." He said with a shrug.

He walked out of the small room, his breathing long since returned to normal. His eyes were locked on the ground, as he wondered to himself if he could get away with sleeping in the lot for another night when he smacked right into someone.

Dallas pulled him away, holding both of his shoulders so Johnny had to look at him. The younger greaser shrank back, a scarlet blush flaring on his dark cheeks.

"Dally, I uh-" Johnny started, looking off to the side.

"You went to see your folks?" Dally asked, his voice dangerously calm. Johnny didn't even need to answer, Dallas already knew. But Johnny nodded anyways. "Goddamnit." Dally cursed, punching the wall, hard.

He turned back to Johnny, giving him a once over, noticing that there were no physical wounds. Sometimes that was even worse.

"So, we going to the drive-in tonight?" Dally asked, his voice low and casual. It was a little tradition of theirs. Whenever it was Johnny's mom who hurt him, Dallas would take him and Pony out for cokes or to a movie. It was sort of like Dallas' way of saying 'sorry your folks treat you like shit.'

"Yeah, we can do a movie," Johnny said, eyes shifting back to the ground.

"Don't be late." Says Dallas, as he finally turned around, silently slipping out of the front door of the Curtis house.

I **'ll do my best to update soon. Thank you so much for bearing with me-Macky.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hola amigos!**

 **Thanks for being so patient with me, and thank for all your sweet reviews and everyone who favorited and followed. Y'all are the best.**

 **Enjoy :)**

The drive-in was packed beyond belief, to the point that there was no elbow room, and to Johnny, it felt like there was not enough air to breathe. He doesn't like areas with a lot of people, especially a place with socs and greasers together. That means fights and judging and an overall uncomfortable situation. It also meant that Johnny would have to sit next to a total stranger, and he prayed that he would be able to convince Dal and Ponyboy to let him sit between them.

Sylvia's there and is starting up arguments with Dallas. They're bickering and Dally demands to know who she's there with. She barks that it's none of his business and for a moment Johnny is sure that Dallas is going to smack Sylvia and then their lips are locked together. Johnny watches them, confused. They were fighting one second, and kissing the next. Pony's nose wrinkles in disgust and Johnny can't help but laugh. Ponyboy never really existed his "girls are gross" phase.

"Why are they kissing if they're fighting?" He asks, his face still pulled into a disgusted glare.

"I don't know. Maybe it stops them from being too angry at each other." He replied. He wonders what that would be like if when his parents got too angry they would just kiss and make up. He wondered if it would work, it sure worked for Dallas and Sylvia. They did it all the time, they never got too mad at each other. It was like they showed their anger through affection.

Dallas steps back and slings an arm around Johnny. He's accidentally too rough and it almost knocks him over, but Johnny is able to steady himself before he does. He smiles up at Dally, and Dallas smiles back. He savors the feeling of his friend's arm around him, he's not a big fan of physical affection. Pony loves hugging and cuddling but Johnny doesn't get the appeal of it. But he enjoys the feeling of Dallas hugging him against his side.

Sylvia smirked at him. They're not really friends, but they're the same kind. Sylvia's a tough greaser girl, and even though Johnny knows he gets on her nerves half of the time she still has his back. Johnny smiles back shyly back at her. He's happy, really happy. He's glad Dally invited him to go.

"C'mon, Johnnycake. Let's go find our seats." Pony said tugging on his sleeve. Johnny nodded, ducking away.

They looked among the rows of seats, finding them full. Pony frowned, and Johnny carefully observed all the rows of chairs. It was completely jammed, he sighed, they would never find three chairs together. They would have to sit separately.

He froze as he noticed a familiar face, he knew her from anywhere. It was Holly, but she wasn't turned to look at him. Instead, her lips were pressed against the lips of another soc. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was in heaven, in a state of complete bliss. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

He tried to lie to himself again. Say he didn't care, she was just some stupid, basic soc. Why should he care? They weren't friends, and now that he thought about it, she had never truly shown any interest in him. Sure she was nice to him, but what did that mean. Pony was nice to him, Dallas was nice to him. So why would she be any different than them?

But he couldn't lie to himself anymore. He could feel himself shaking, he was spiraling. He tried to stutter out an excuse, say he wasn't feeling well. But he couldn't even bring himself to speak. He was shaking, and he knew that if he didn't move he would go crashing to the ground.

He was sprinting. His sprint from the other day seemed like a slow and calm jog now. He could hear Pony calling his name, but he was confident that he wouldn't come after him. The younger boy was still skittish about being alone at night, especially in a place where there were socs. He had never been thankful for his friend's nervousness until then.

He ran up the uneven lawn, it hadn't been cut in forever, neither of his parents bothered to keep it up. Most of the grass was already dead anyway, and he was sure that his folks wouldn't take a good enough look to realize that he had walked across it. He stumbled a bit but kept going. It was least of his worries at that point.

He flung the front door open, swearing under his breath as he sliced open his leg on a nail that was sticking out of the door frame. He paused for a moment in the doorway, taking long breaths. If there was anyone home they most definitely asleep. If his parents were together they were usually fighting, and if they were apart they were usually muttering to themselves. It was rare for his house to be so quiet. And for a moment Johnny stood, listening to the bittersweet silence.

A grim smile was on his lips now, as he walked around his house, coming to the conclusion that he was alone. He couldn't remember a time that there weren't holes in the wall, that it wasn't colder than the arctic or hotter than hell. It wasn't often that his old man paid the bills, they didn't have the money. Or that was what he claimed anyway.

It made him wonder. How honest his father had been with him. No, not just his father. Them, his parents. How many times had they lied to his face? Quite a few times he was sure.

There were times his dad promised he wouldn't hit him again, a promise he had never kept. Times his mom promised they would start being a real family like the Curtis' had been before their parents died. The family that Johnny craved to have, the family that he needed. But he couldn't have those, and even if he did it would never be enough.

And how many times had Johnny lied to them? How many times had he told them that he had gone to school when he didn't? How many times had he told his old man that he would clean up his act? Or told his mom that he wasn't hanging out with Dallas Winston?

His first thought was to take his own life. He could do it, he didn't have any doubts about that. But even in his self-hatred, he thought of his friends. Johnny thought about Dallas punching a wall when he found out, Soda and Pony hugging and sobbing at his funeral. He imagined Steve finally being quiet for once, and Two-Bit not cracking and jokes. He couldn't do that to his friends.

He sat down on the staircase, burying his head in his arms. He wasn't entirely sure what to do. He considered just curling up and sleeping until the world disappeared. But from a more logical point of view, it didn't seem like a good idea to nap until he died. He considered pretending that everything was okay, it's what he always had done.

But the awful feeling that had finally settled in his chest after so much wasn't going to leave. It was overwhelmingly painful, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to live with it. He sighed deeply, wondering how in the world could remove himself without hurting anyone else.

The idea came to him very slowly, and on unsteady and numb legs he stood, and he darted up the stairs. He went straight to his parents' room and opened the third drawer of his father's dresser. He pulled out his old torn up leather wallet. He took a portion of the money that was in his wallet. He quickly walked to his own bedroom and grabbed his backpack, tossing the money in the bottom. It wasn't much, but at least it was something.

He tossed some paper and a pen in his bag, mentally telling himself that he would write to his buddies when he got the chance. The grabbed things from his kitchen, things that would last. Bread, jam, he considered water. But he didn't want to take up more room than necessary, and he sure he could find it easily.

From there he strode right out the front door. Usually, he turned to make sure no one was following him, or to apologize when he knew he was doing something stupid.

But he didn't look back. Not even once.

 **Please review- Macky**


	11. Chapter 11

**…**

 **Hey.**

 **So to say the least I've been gone for a while. A lot has happened these past few months and life didn't leave much room for hobbies. But I love writing too much to just quit, and you guys have been too loyal to just not finish this story.**

 **Hopefully, I'll get back into the swing of it.**

 **Enjoy,**

To say the least, Dallas wasn't pleased when Pony tapped his shoulder. His lips left Sylvia's, and she pouted, but he decided to ignore her for a minute. He turned around quickly, glaring at the younger greaser. Pony shrank back for a moment, but there was a fire in his eyes.

Dallas sighed, massaging his temples. Damn, this kid couldn't need him a less inconvenient time.

"What's the problem, sweetheart?" He asked, throwing in the nickname just to get on his nerves. But to his surprise, the younger male didn't show an ounce of annoyance.

"Where's Johnny?" Pony demanded, and when he did his face fell. He wrung his hands out in front of him, showing how anxious he really was. Dallas sighed again, but for a different reason. He bent down a little bit so he would be closer to the greaser's level.

"What do you mean where's Johnny?" But as the words left his mouth he realized the meaning behind him.

By this point, Ponyboy had tears threatening to spill over. Dallas was about to tell him that crying wouldn't do any good, and besides, he was a man and not a child and he shouldn't be crying anyway. And then Sylvia stepped in.

"Oh, sweetie." She said pulling him into her chest. "Don't cry, precious baby." She said. Dallas frowned, at the ripe age of sixteen his girl had baby fever. It had all started when her classmate had announced she was pregnant and would be dropping out to care for her child. Ever since then she had been talking about baby names and how cute babies were and it was baby this, baby that. God, it made him sick.

And the worst part was, anyone at least a year younger than her was a "precious baby." And Pony was apparently no exception.

"He's gone," Ponyboy mumbled into her chest.

"He's not gone, he couldn't have gotten that far," Dallas replied stubbornly, grabbing Pony's shoulders and pulling him away from Sylvia. "He's. Not. Gone." He repeated.

"Let go of him, Dallas," Sylvia said, but he sounded far like she was underwater. He shoved him, hard, and Sylvia steadied the boy but didn't hug him like she had before. They both watched him intently, with wide eyes and deep frowns. Dallas was breathing hard, taking gasping breaths like he was breathing smoke as opposed to oxygen.

"I'm going after him. Make sure he gets home." He said to Sylvia. And with that, he turned around and sprinted away towards the exit.

Johnny stood at the side of the busy road, thumb high in the air. He was usually a little wary of strangers, especially socs. At that moment, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, it was the last thing that could cross his mind. A car from down the road slowed down before screeching to a halt in front of him.

"Where ya going, kid?" The man in the driver's seat asked. He wore a hat with a brim, tilted forward so it was almost down to his eyebrows. Johnny shrugged.

"Wherever, just out of Tulsa." He replied. The man, who had a round face and eyes almost as dark as his own, flashed him a grin. "

Adventurous, I like it. Hop in." Without a moment of hesitance, he did just that. He finally felt like he could breathe now that his plan was in action.

"You got a name, kid?" This time he hesitated, the less this man knew about him the better.

"Johnathan." He said, using his full name. He hadn't gone by it in years, the only person who ever used it was his mother. It felt weird hearing it, but he kind of liked it. He was stronger and different. The man rose a brow.

"Just Johnathan? No last name? You're not coming with me if you don't at least give me a name."

Johnny scowled but gave in.

"Winston, Johnathan Winston."

Dallas finally sat down, he had to. For over an hour he had gone into every bar, searched the Curtis house twice. Stood in the middle of the park and yelled his name until he felt like his windpipe would burst. Nothing. It was like he had disappeared off the planet. He put his head between his knees, trying to steady his labored breathing.

"I'll find you. I promise if it's the last thing I do." He whispered. And with that, he stood up and began to search the neighborhood once again.

 **Please review,**

 **~Macky**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello :)**

 **I've had quite a bit of writer's block lately, and i have tried to write this several times, and never been satisfied. I think i've worked it out now though.**

 **Anyways, please enjoy**

There was a deep, almost unnerving silence, he had always been a nervous person, often startled by things that wouldn't usually scare other people. Though his mind was racing quite a bit, he had a good feeling in his chest, he knew that this was going to change everything, he hoped for the better. Johnny reminded himself to breathe, though he wasn't particularly scared, though he knew he should be. He was leaving everything he had ever known, and who knew what his future held…

Johnny had a plan, and a rather simple and foolproof one at that. His plan wasn't exactly to take a new identity, but instead to attract as little attention to himself as possible. He doubted his parents would report him as missing, and he hadn't left Tulsa in years, no one would be able to identify him. He hoped this would work, he needed this. He had a new chance, he could be whoever he wanted to be. He just hoped that he wouldn't get caught and get sent back to Tulsa.

Tulsa was where he was just a greaser. He wasn't anybody in Tulsa, and he certainly wasn't who he wanted to be. His parents were in Tulsa, and though he could admit that he did care for his parents, it wasnn't enough to get him to stay. And Holly, he clenched his fist, god Holly had destroyed him, he didn't even want to think about her. He couldn't go back, he couldn't...

 _Breathe. Breathe._ He reminded himself. He did just that, letting the oxygen flood into his lungs. So maybe he was a little nervous, but he was free and things were going to get better. The driver that had picked himup looked at his a little uncertainly, he had seemed skittish the entire car ride. For once Johnny felt like the strong one, the calm one, and he liked it.

"You okay, kid?" The man asked, his face expressionless. He noticed what the man was doing right away, it was all too familiar to him, he had seen adults do it all the time. During the worst, most terrifying situations they wouldn't show their emotions to not cause panic. His mind was plagued with the thought of Darry, finding out his parents were dead and not saying a thing, his face blank and his eyes empty. Throughout all the stages of grief Darry had simply supported his younger brothers' while they cried, being the strong one…

Johnny's breathing was uneven again, and tears prickled his eyes. _Breathe, breathe,_ reminded himself once again. Once again he was calm, the tears had vanished into thin air, and he was calm. He said it to himself a few times. _I am calm. I am calm._

"I'm okay." He finally said. He man nodded.

"So, uh, i'm almost at my destination. Is there anywhere I can bring you? Or anyone I can call?" He said, glancing at Johnny. Johnny suspected that the man assumed that he was younger then he actually was, not that fifteen was exactly an adult, but Johnny certainly didn't look fifteen. It was obvious that he was treating him like a child. Despite the man trying to keep his cool, Johnny could feel the nervousness that kept rolling off of him, and Johnny felt sympathy. He knew what that was like, he knew that feeling too well, being so scared that you couldn't hide it, in a way it was like watching himself.

"No, here is fine. Anywhere is fine." The greaser confirmed. He had to admit, he felt like he was putting up a pretty good fight. Not against the man, and not against a physical thing. He was fighting against himself, against his emotions and the urges to go back. To see his friends and go back to the familiarity of Tulsa. But he suppressed the feeling of want, and forced his mind forward, reminding himself of the one phrase that he had been telling himself over and over again. _This is gonna change everything, man._

"Can I ask why you're travelling to broken arrow?" The man asked, his raspy voice careful and low. Broken arrow, it was only about 20 minutes from Tulsa, only about 14 miles. But it wasn't Tulsa, and it was somewhere new where no one knew who he was, this new town was going to be his escape.

"I just need a break, I need some time away." Johnny said, looking away. He was a bad liar, and he didn't miss the suspicious look that the driver gave him, and he feared for a moment that he had been caught. He was sure then that he would turn the car right around and bring him back to that dreadful place. However, to his surprise he pulled over on the side of the road, and Johnny breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Well, Johnathan, I believe this is where he part ways." The man said somewhat awkwardly. Johnny quickly exited the car before the man could change his mind. He gave him a wide, genuine smile, and the man timidly returned it, but it was brief.

"Thank you. So much. I really appreciate you doing this." Johnny said, the positive feeling in his chest rising. The man said nothing, and the car sped off, but Johnny didn't care. He turned and faced his new beginning, that genuine smile still on his face.

" _So, have you guys met blondie yet?" Two-Bit asked, tossing the football. Johnny caught it, giving a him a questioning look. At first the dark-haired boy had thought that the young man was referring to a girl. Johnny wasn't too bothered or interested, the ten year old wasn't much into girls yet. After all, it was Two-Bit. Johnny tossed the football to Ponyboy, who promptly asked,_

" _Who's blondie?'_

 _Two-Bit's smile only grew. "New kid at school, tall, white-blond hair. Everyone said that he's a hood." Ponyboy frowned, he was friendly, but could be slightly warry of new people._

" _His name is blondie?" He asked, in a curious voice. Johnny nodded, he had to admit it was rather odd. But Two-Bit shook his head. "No, it's something real weird. Texas? No that's not it. Houston? No that's not it either."_

" _Dallas. His name is Dallas Winston." Mrs. Curtis finally said from behind them. Up until then Johnny forgot that she had been sitting there. "He's from Brooklyn, that's in New York City." She informed them, and Johnny immediately shivered, he had heard stories about New York City and it didn't sound pleasant to say the least. "I've heard that he's trouble." Mrs. Curtis admitted, giving them each a good hard look. It was a warning._

 _Mrs. Curtis didn't say hoodlum or even use the word "greaser." Her family lived on the east-side, and her own sons would probably grow up with the name "greaser" used against them in a negative way. She was an extremely sympathetic person, especially being in a tough position herself. Johnny new that when she admitted that someone was "trouble" it was most defiantly for a good reason. Johnny decided that he should probably try his very best to never cross paths with Dallas Winston._

" _Anyways, Dallas is real tuff…"_

"People don't just disappear, Dal." Darry said slowly, he was obviously very unimpressed. Dallas glared back at the older man.

"Well, Johnny clearly isn't here. So I don't know what you want me to say." He snapped. He had gone to the Curtis' after doing a couple more laps of the block, he half expected to find the young Greaser on the floor next to Ponyboy, silently watching his buddies. Dallas was sure he would be there where he belonged. He had to be. But when he opened the front door Ponyboy was sitting there, all alone. No Johnny.

"He's certainly not around here. He might be lost. Poor baby." Sylvia said softly. Dallas glared at his girl. Jesus, this baby thing was getting annoying. He was rather annoyed with Sylvia at the moment, in fact he was rather annoyed with everyone. Sylvia had followed him even though he had told her several times not to, and he wasn't really sure why because she wasn't really helping. He knew that was another reason Darry was so annoyed. He didn't like Sylvia, but to be honest Dallas didn't love her a whole lot at the moment either.

"He's not a fucking baby!" He cried loudly, his temper getting the best of him. Sylvia was unfazed, a smirk was on her face. On a regular night an argument would break out and it would end with angry 's probably what would have happened if they had been alone, but Darry surely wasn't going to let that happen.

"That's enough, Sylvia." Darry said seriously. The blond-haired girl turned her attention to the older man, undettered. She simply winked at him slowly, and puckered her lips. It didn't matter to her that Dally was right there, it was all fun and games to her, and Darry was fed up too.

"Sodapop!" He yelled, and the middle Curtis brother poked his head from where he was in the living room, where he was consolling his younger brother.

"Take Sylvia home." He commanded. Finally, Sylvia's cocky smile faded. Darry slowly turned to look at Dallas.

"Have you checked his parent's house?" The hood shook his head, he has honestly been avoiding it. Darry nodded. "Then i think that's where we need to go."

 **Should I continue? Is anyone even reading this anymore? If you are, thank you. Lol.**

 **Please review**

 **-Macky**


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